envy
by rhiannon macgregor
my blessings radiate from myriad sources about this poem:
i was thinking when i wrote this that i...and most people...are often never happy with what they have. i tried to paint that picture in the poem "of dreams and destiny", but it didn't come out sounding the way i expected it would. this one illustrates my sometimes incessant need for more, and never being completely satisfied with what i have....hey...i'm human.
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weaving through discord like seraphs of grace
come to deliever me from weathered courses
to places in time where time has no place.
this tree, that sunset, those wild-blooming roses,
your smile, my art, and the temperate days
are all but mere moments to she who supposes
that there should be more, in so many ways.
so dissatisfaction reigns o'er my pleasure
that i should have more than has been my portion
and the envy compels me to constantly measure
my highs and lows against covetous distortion.
i know i ought temper my penchant to crave
and in so doing seek to want what i have.